


imperatoria lupanari

by Imperial_Dragon



Series: Imperial Earth [5]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brothels, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Original Character(s), Prostitution, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 04:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperial_Dragon/pseuds/Imperial_Dragon
Summary: Arruns is introduced to the world of the Imperial Brothels.





	imperatoria lupanari

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [2771 ab urbe condita ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059413) by [Mossgreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen)
> 
> Thanks to [macqy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy) for her usual excellent beta. Much appreciated!
> 
> I changed the age of Mus/Mouse from 11 to 13 (in Chapter 2 of [matutinum post VosTubam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091750/chapters/37582481)

Arruns wistfully watched Val leave the examination room. Was Val really the personal slave of the Emperor? He seemed too kind for such an exalted slave, and this idea that Val would visit a boy in a brothel was just ridiculous. He put that out of his mind right away; there was no use wishing for the impossible.

Eutherius bustled about with his physical checks once Val had left. It was simple – there was a table Arruns could lie down on, with a padded cover, and stirrups so that he didn’t have to hold up his legs. Eutherius carefully checked Arruns over. He measured the circumference of every body part, wanted swabs and samples from everywhere and drew more blood than Arruns thought necessary.

“We should get a semen sample and check your responses,” the doctor said, “but I think we can leave that until you’re feeling better. You are surprisingly healthy for your physical condition but you need feeding up and rest. There will be no work for a while. I’d better check your anus for damage, and then I’ll send you to the Support Services for your induction.”

It all sounded very unpleasant, but to his surprise the anal exam was not as horrible as he thought. Eutherius gently slid a well lubricated finger inside and felt around cautiously.

“Do you have stabbing pains or an ache, or does it just feel raw?” he asked.

“Raw and a bit achy, sir.” It wasn’t too bad – he’d certainly felt worse.

“I think you’ll be OK.” Eutherius let down his legs and helped him sit up. “I’ll give you a medical lube which will help with the pain and prevent infection and I think that, with a good high fibre diet and plenty of liquids, will get you over the worst of the healing. I’ll have a look at you in, hmm, two days, unless your pain increases or you don’t feel well. If anything like that happens, you are to let us know immediately. Do you understand?”

Arruns did not, but was not about to say so. “Yes, sir.”

Eutherius just gave him a sceptical look. “You’ll need a guide for the first few days – a buddy, I mean.” He tapped the tabula which he had been using for his notes. “Sabrina, send in whoever is on support duty, and alert Social Support that there is a new boy on his way.”

The doctor scribbled a note and waved Arruns to a seat. He had barely sat down before there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Eutherius said, and a handsome young man dressed in a respectable tunic stepped inside. “Oh, Pertinax – this is Arruns, our new boy. Get him some clothes, will you, here are his measurements.” He passed over the note.

“Yes, medice,” Pertinax said, closing the door behind him.

“Pertinax will look after you,” Eutherius said to Arruns. “He’s a good lad.”

Eutherius said a lot more after that. Arruns listened carefully but he wasn’t sure he understood everything. At least he understood he wasn’t to work until he was completely healed: Eutherius said that several times. There was a lot of testing and evaluation to come, both sexual and educational, and many opportunities for Arruns to develop his skills.

A knock at the door heralded Pertinax again, now holding a bundle of clothes and smiling at Arruns.

“I’ve brought a tunic, subligaculum, and bracae,” he said. “And soccus, if you want them. You’ll get some better clothes later but these will do for now.”

Better clothes than this? Arruns took the pile reverently from Pertinax. He hadn’t worn such a fine tunic since Master Tibby had sold him, with thick fabric and only a few mends. Pertinax gave him an encouraging grin and Aruuns laid the garments out on the table.

Eutherius’s tabula dinged with a message and he checked it. “Oh, crap,” he said. “I have to photograph the damage from last night’s fight and estimate its value for the trial. We’ll get it out of the way and do it now.”

It didn’t take long. Pertinax photographed the bruises on his leg and ribs while Eutherius held up a ruler for scale and commented on the injuries. This time Arruns finally listened to the diagnosis: superficial bruising all over, bruised ribs and the split lip now stitched up. The rest of his physical damage was “historic”.

“There’s probably only a few hundred sesterces in damage,” Eutherius finally said. “Although your lip may scar and that would be a permanent detraction for a pleasure slave. The rib will take a few weeks to heal and you really can’t work effectively until that’s fixed. So there’s loss of earnings and a few medications -” The medicus tapped his tablua. “Let’s say three hundred. Now, Arruns, tell me and Pertinax what I have prescribed for your treatment.”

Arruns tried to remember what the doctor had told him just a few moments ago. He had listened, but he couldn’t believe that all this was intended for him so somehow the instructions had not stuck as a master’s commands should.

“Painkillers for my breathing, sir. An ice pack today and tomorrow for the swelling. Lots of rest but also keep mobile by walking. Hold a pillow if I need to cough. Um – I’m sorry, sir, I can’t remember the rest.” He cowered slightly in anticipation of a blow.

“None of that!” Eutherius said firmly. “You need to keep your posture straight. No exertion either, which includes no kneeling or bowing until I say you can. It will be on your notes so if anyone complains you can refer them to your file. And you might need to be propped up at night. I’ll send this to your phone, Pertinax, so you can help Arruns. You’ll be back for a check-up in a few days, boy, but if you feel worse tell Pertinax or come back here immediately. Stop in at the nurses’ station on your way out for your medication. We’ll get you dressed now and you’ll get your painkillers.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Arruns said, resisting the urge to kneel or at least make some gesture of submission.

Both Eutherius and Pertinax helped him dress. Now that his attention was drawn to his ribs, Arruns could feel the ache when he moved, as the dose of pain relief from the hospital wore off. But it was amazing how much easier it was to cope with the pain when he was not required to work or bow. Pertinax tied his loin cloth on and pulled up his bracae while Eutherius dealt with his tunic and tied his belt.

“Thank you, sir,” Arruns said again as Pertinax gently pushed him out of the room and down the corridor to the nurses’ station.

The nurses, who were slaves, gave him another dose of painkillers, a pillow to hold when he coughed, tissues, and strapped an ice pack on his sore ribs.

“Come back later this afternoon and we’ll give you another pack,” the nurse said, handing over the bag of supplies to the older slave. “You look after him, Pertinax.”

“Of course! Come on, Arruns, let’s get some lunch before we start on your appointments.”

Pertinax proved to be a good companion. He kept to Arruns’s slow pace and pointed out the important places as they went: the offices where he would have his proper intake interview; the laundry, linen store and clothes store; the tech store where he would get his phone issued –

“I get a phone?” Arruns asked. 

“Yeah. How else can management order you around?” Pertinax laughed. “It won’t be a good as mine, because I bought this with my own peculium, but it will work well enough. It still belongs to the brothel, and you’ll have to give it back when you leave, but it’s better than nothing.”

Somehow knowing he would get a phone broke through Arruns’ defences and tears welled in his eyes. A phone! Just like a free person, and like those favoured slaves, like Valentine.

“Are you OK?” Pertinax turned to him frowning in concern.

Arruns drew a deep breath, which tuned into a sob, and then a hacking cough. Pertinax shoved the pillow at him.

“Hold it tight,” Pertinax said, then pulled Arruns against his own body. “You’ve started breathing more deeply with the painkillers and ice pack so all the crap in your lungs is disturbed and you are going to cough it all up, whatever your ribs think of it.”

By the time he’d coughed up his lungs, and got over the renewed ache in his ribs, Arruns felt wrung out. Pertinax looked worried.

“You still need to eat,” he said, and helped him to the cafeteria, easing him down onto a chair. “I’ll get you some puls, and a nice cup of tea.”

The pain in his ribs eased off, he caught his breath and finally had time to look around. It looked a bit like the cafes and cheap restaurants he’d never been allowed in. Slaves sat at the tables. They looked at him with mild interest, but mostly concentrated on their own food or talked to one another. The girl at the next table smiled at him.

“Ribs, eh? Always a fucking pain, broken ribs, you never know when you’re going to set them off. Just come in, have you?”

Arruns nodded. “This morning. I’m Arruns.”

“Telestis.” She held her hand out and Arruns just looked at it. This was freeman behaviour. “Shake hands, Arruns – we are part of the same team.”

Arruns dropped the hand of Telestis as soon as he could. He was uneasy with aping the manners of the free, because he wasn’t free; he didn’t need some ritual to put himself on the same level as another slave, and free people didn’t like it when slaves acted uppity. He was glad to see Pertinax returning with a bowl of steaming, fragrant puls, a thick piece of bread and a spoon, which he placed in front of Arruns. 

“You don’t have to finish this if it’s too much,” Pertinax said. “There’s no need to stuff yourself – there’s plenty more tonight, and tomorrow.”

Arruns nodded, only half believing what Pertinax had said. He picked up the bowl of hot food and dipped the spoon in (a spoon for his use only, as Telestis had her own spoon). Plump grains and cubes of vegetables in a thick stock nestled in the spoon. He blew away the steam and closed his mouth around the mouthful. It was hot and savoury and better than anything he’d eaten in years. He scooped another spoonful and made to shove it in his mouth.

“Slowly,” Pertinax said, grinning at him.

Even eating slowly, it did not take long for Arruns to finish half his puls and bread. Telestis calmly carried on eating, not shoving the food in her mouth as he was, but he could not slow down. Then he was full, and regretfully he had to push the bowl aside.

“That’s very good,” Pertinax said. “You’ll be ready for cena tonight. I’ll get you some tea. See the urn? There’s always tea available, and food.”

Pertinax rose to get the tea, while Arruns tried to keep his disbelief from his expression.

“I have to go,” Telestis said, and patted his arm. “It’s all true, Arruns. This place may not be perfect but at least you won’t be starved. Of course, you have to work. I’m going to take a nap before getting ready.”

She grinned and left the cafeteria, while Pertinax brought the tea over. It was good tea, too, not the coloured water produced by leaves steeped for the third time, and Arruns allowed himself to fully experience the flavour. If this was what the slaves here drank on a regular basis perhaps all the other claims for good treatment were true. 

Pertinax drank his own tea and looked at his phone. “There are a lot of instructions for you about a trial tomorrow,” Pertinax said. “What’s all that about? Is it that fight with the young aristocrats last night? There’s been a lot about it on the news.”

“Yeah. Valentine told me to be ready for it.”

“The Emperor’s Valentine? You are mixing in exalted circles.” Pertinax grinned. “In that case we’d better get going.”

They went to the clothes store, where Arruns tried on some tunics and braccae, helped by Pertinax because of his ribs. Pertinax removed the ice pack, and checked the fit of the clothes. They were well worn and a little big but Arruns mostly appreciated the fine, sturdy fabric, lack of holes, and skin coverage. He was given a pile of clothes to take away, including a very respectable slubbed wool tunic with vertical, naturally-coloured stripes. Arruns held it carefully; he’d never had such an expensive and stylish tunic.

“For your court appearance tomorrow,” Pertinax said casually. “You look utterly whacked. Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can have a nap. You’ll be sleeping in the infirmary for a bit, until the ribs ease off. Then we’ll find you a spot in the dormitories.”

They were going to find him a place to sleep; he had nice clothes; he’d eaten a good meal and drunk tea with actual flavour. So far, the Imperial Brothel had kept its promises. Maybe, just maybe, he could trust them. And if he could – Arruns felt light and a little giddy. He looked up at Pertinax, who smiled down at him, and realised that he was smiling too. It had been a long time since Arruns had smiled a full, wide smile and his face felt stiff as his muscles creaked into action. 

Happy: that’s what he was. He was comfortable, Pertinax was kind to him, and that was what mattered now. This looked like a good place, even though he had to work in the brothel. Telestis seemed happy; surely he could be too.

They were back in the main corridor, a rather sterile and institutional expanse of old-fashioned polished lino and grubby walls, and heading for the infirmary when screams echoed down the hall; screams and the drumming of footsteps – Arruns stopped so suddenly that he jolted and gasped as his ribs seized up with pain. More screams, and the doors flew open. A horde of people burst through the door, squealing and laughing. Arruns tried to jerk back, in case one ran in to him, and groaned as he hurt his ribs.

“Stop!” Pertinax held up his hands. He was tall and commanding and all the people skidded to a halt.

The horde were children, now quiet and staring at Pertinax; young children and not as many as Arruns had thought. Three were missing front teeth and the others were not much older. For a moment Arruns was charmed by the children all staring up at Pertinax, until he remembered that this was a brothel and it was not a good thing that children were there.

“You all know you are not supposed to run in the corridor,” Pertinax said sternly. “This is Arruns. You startled him, and he hurt his ribs. That’s why you’ve got to be careful.”

“Sorry, Arruns,” the children chorused.

“We just wanted to play,” one of the older children added. He glanced up at Arruns but looked away. “Sorry.”

“Well, you can’t play down here today,” Pertinax said, and the kids groaned. “Next time, you come in quietly and you ask to use the corridor and there won’t be a problem, but right now you are going upstairs. You can ask the floor supervisor if you can play up there.”

“But ‘Ax -” one of the little children began to protest, only to be nudged by an older boy.

“Yes, Pertinax,” the older boy said. He gathered up the younger kids, and smiled at Arruns. “I hope your ribs get better soon.”

The children walked down the corridor to the stairs, with the careful steps of kids trying not to run.

“Are you all right?” Pertinax frowned down at Arruns. “Did you hurt yourself too much?”

“No.” The pain in his ribs had already faded, but the presence of the children in the brothel was an ache of a different kind. “I’m getting better. What did the children want to do down here?”

“When there is bad weather outside the kids play ball inside,” Pertinax explained. “Or drag each other around on blankets. That’s more fun than it sounds. Upstairs the corridor is narrower so they prefer it down here but they know they ought to ask for permission to play. I think they’ve been at the baths, which should have worn them out, but the weather has been so bad I think they’re stir crazy.”

“But they’re slaves, so they can’t be so –” He couldn’t even say what the slave children were – “so, so naughty. Shouldn’t they be punished?”

Pertinax led Arruns toward the infirmary. “Maybe. But then all they’d think about is how I spanked them, instead of how they hurt you when they didn’t follow the rules. It takes some time to get kids to think, and we really want them more civilised before we sell them.”

Arruns gulped. “Sell? I thought the brothel kept the slaves and taught us a trade. That’s what Val - Valentine told me.”

And he had thought it was true, because there was no need to lie to a slave whore.

“Well, we do keep slaves,” Pertinax said slowly. “Some. The ones that fit our business model. But there is so much demand for places here –most rescued sex slaves come here, from SIPAS or from lararium rescues. But there’s an oversupply of some demographics, and we can’t keep everyone. We do give training, and we only sell to approved buyers, and it is pretty hard to get on our list, so don’t worry about being sold to some bastard.”

“Oh,” Arruns said sadly. “That’s not what Valentine told me.” He’d had a little dream there, of belonging and working in a place that treated the slaves well. It looked like that dream was as distant as any he had had.

“Although, you might stay since the palace has paid for you,” Pertinax said. Arruns thought he was trying to be upbeat. “Don’t worry about that now – you wouldn’t be sold for ages, if you are. Here are the showers. I’ll give you a hand.”

It was time to stop thinking about a possible future sale, and to concentrate on the moment, and his shower. Arruns couldn’t remember his last shower, which he’d probably sneaked when Master Sosius was out of the flat. The last he washed was just yesterday, before going out to sell his body. Mus had said to be careful as he left. Poor Mus, left behind with Master Sosius.

Pertinax led Arruns over to the latrine. Using that was just unpleasant, as was usual the day after being fucked by rough clients. Meanwhile Pertinax bustled about getting everything ready for his shower: towels, soap and shampoo, and a seat. The room was sterile and institutional but all the products and fittings looked to be of good quality.

Once Arruns was finished Pertinax helped him undress. The painkillers were wearing off and his ribs were starting to hurt. Pertinax gently pushed him onto the seat.

“Just relax,” he said, and stripped off his own clothing.

Arruns twitched uneasily. Being naked in a bathroom reminded him of – but he squashed thoughts and memories of master number two with practised ease. He hadn’t had sex naked for a long time, since he had been working on the streets. He was here to be cleaned, nothing else. 

Pertinax took the shower head, turned on the water and checked the temperature. “Let me know if it is too hot or cold,” he said.

The temperature was perfect on his head as Pertinax wetted his hair. When Pertinax put the shower head back on the wall he angled the water stream onto Arruns’s legs. That felt good; mildly distracting and warm. Pertinax lathered shampoo into his hair.

“At least you don’t have lice,” Pertinax said, and massaged his scalp. The fingers pressed soothing bliss into his head. Arruns wanted to simply relax and enjoy, but, when he tried, an incautious movement sent a warning twinge from his ribs, so he sat up straight.

Eventually Pertinax rinsed the shampoo out and he put another cream in Arruns’s hair, with more firm strokes to his scalp. 

“Lean back on me,” Pertinax said, and Arruns found a more comfortable position against him. “You know, I don’t think Valentine meant to deceive you. There’s no reason he would know how the brothel works, and what he said is true enough for some of us. So, you might stay.”

“But you need the space for others.” If this brothel was a refuge, Arruns knew how many slaves needed it. He didn’t want to be brave or noble about it – slaves had to learn to care more for themselves than anyone else – but if there was pressure for slaves to be moved on then it would happen eventually. “Valentine did say he would visit me here. He showed me an alert on his tabula.”

“There you go.” Pertinax sounded relieved. “You don’t need to worry about this, if the family are taking an interest.”

That was all a slave could expect. Arruns shut his mouth on all his worries and thought about the warm water cascading over his skin and the warm hands working the soap to clean him. Once Pertinax had finished his back and chest he urged Arruns to stand.

“I need to wash all of you,” he said. “Don’t worry – I’m not going to do anything.”

And he didn’t; just washed Arruns’s ass and groin and thighs gently and impersonally.

“I don’t know how you feel about this, but there is no ban on sex between slave whores here.” Pertinax lowered Arruns back onto the seat. “You don’t have to do anything but the option is always there.”

Arruns considered this as Pertinax washed his lower legs. He’d never bothered to even think about wanting sex before. With Master Tibby it had been imperative to conceal any sexual arousal; the thought was ludicrous with master number two; and neither Sosius nor any of his clients inspired any sexual thoughts. He might have fooled around with a few of the other whores on a slow night, but generally he was too busy advertising himself to bother looking for it. He didn’t even think he really liked sex. Pertinax’s gentle touch was nice and friendly but Arruns really did not want anything further.

After rinsing off the last of the soap, Pertinax turned off the water and picked up a towel. Arruns got a glimpse of his cock, plump and happy, before looking away. As a professional, he could look after Pertinax and his cock with no trouble but there was no denying he was tired and would rather not right now.

“None of that, my dear,” Pertinax said, his hands full of a thick, soft towel that he applied to Arruns’s head. “I can’t help it if I get a little excited from running my hands over a beautiful young man, but you don’t need to do anything about it. I’m working tonight, anyway, so some lucky customer will get the benefit.”

Pertinax sniggered. Arruns couldn’t see what was so funny.

It didn’t take long for Pertinax to dry Arruns. Pertinax held out what Arruns thought was another towel but which turned out to be a robe. Pertinax wrapped it around Arruns, letting the arms hang free, and tied it off with a belt.

“Step into these slippers. OK, here’s what will happen today. You are going to have a nap for a few hours until dinner, then you are going to eat and then go back to bed, because you are getting up very early. I’m going to make sure you have everything that you need for tomorrow, so you don’t need to worry. OK?”

“Yes, Pertinax,” Arruns said. For a moment he felt constrained by the robe firmly wrapped around him, but he realised that he could break free at any time. He wasn’t imprisoned by the robe at all, but it was soft and warm and comforting.

Pertinax carried Arruns’s clothes. He gently pushed Arruns from the bathroom, down the corridor to a small room with an uncomfortable looking bed.

“Medicus Eutherius wants you to sleep in the infirmary for your first few nights, until you are feeling better,” Pertinax explained. “Let me get your dose of painkillers then you can get settled.”

The older slave bustled about with pills and the water, then helped Arruns lie down. He raised the torso end of the bed, and Arruns was surprised at how comfortable and supportive it was, once supplied with soft pillows and warm blankets. Pertinax tucked him in, very carefully, and kissed his forehead.

“Just sleep, and don’t worry about anything.” Pertinax switched off the light as he left.

Arruns sighed and cautiously stretched. He hadn’t slept in a proper bed, by himself, since his time at Master Tibby’s, and he’d like to luxuriate in this comfort for longer. But he could enjoy this bed and a full stomach another time, and right now all he needed to do was sleep.

“Hey, wake up, Syrianus – I mean Arruns. It’s time for cena.”

Someone patted his cheek and Arruns turned his head away. “Too tired,” he mumbled.

Whoever it was poked his arm and Arruns flinched, only to grunt in pain as he pulled on his ribs.

“Sorry.” The visitor with the bad bedside manner didn’t sound sorry, but he did sound familiar, and Arruns forced his eyes open.

“Mus?” Arruns still felt half asleep, and the sharp, familiar features of his young slave friend seemed more like a dream mirage of Morpheus than the real thing. But Arruns grabbed Mus’s arm, which was warm and solid. He _was_ real. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Mus said, grinning. “But right now, you have to get up and eat cena, and then go back to bed straight after, because you have to get up really early tomorrow. Something about a trial, Pertinax says.”

Arruns rubbed his eyes, still heavy and gummed up from sleep. “I’m glad someone knows what I’m doing, even if I don’t.” He tried to get up but he’d stiffened up and he sank back with a groan. “Give us a hand up.”

Mus managed to prop Arruns up enough to let Arruns sit without seriously twinging his ribs. He sat for a few minutes so the room stopped wobbling.

“I need a piss,” Arruns said finally.

“OK.” Mus helped him stand. He might be only thirteen but the boy had a wiry strength and, from long experience, he knew how to support an injured man. It wasn’t the first time Arruns had been damaged. “You have to tell me what happened! There are so many rumours.”

“I’ll tell you at cena, when I can sit down and catch my breath.”

But after his visit to the latrine Arruns could barely stand. What was wrong with him? He’d managed injuries better with his previous masters, and without all the food and rest he was getting here. Maybe that was the problem: good treatment made a slave weak. But he wasn’t going to turn good treatment down!

“You don’t look well,” Mus said, sounding worried as he helped Arruns back to bed. “I’ll bring you your cena here.”

He dashed off, leaving Arruns to make himself comfortable, as much as he could. Arruns had started to drift off to sleep again by the time Mus returned with a tray, and Medicus Eutherius.

“Mus thinks you aren’t doing well,” Eutherius said.

He quickly looked Arruns over, checking his pulse and breathing, before pronouncing the slave to be fine.

“You just aren’t used to being looked after,” the medicus said. “It will take some time for you to heal, but I think that tomorrow you will feel a lot better. I’ve written you a prescription to take to the trial, so everyone will know what you can’t do. Just relax for now, eat your cena and get to sleep.”

Once Eutherius had left the room, Mus set Arruns’s tray on his lap. There was soup, bread and side dishes of olives, tomatoes and pesto. Mus took his own soup and dipped his bread.

“Now tell me how this all happened!”

It was good practice for tomorrow, Arruns supposed. He’d told the story to the interrogators last night, and Valentine this morning; he only hoped he could remember everything when he testified in court. Mus listened avidly as Arruns told him about the charge of the drunk youths, the fighting outside the Vitruvian Theatre, getting kicked and hit, and protecting the old slave woman.

“Poor woman – she was so worried about her man and her master, and we couldn’t see what was happening. The kids were still thrashing around, then I could see the vigiles and the cohortes urbanae just standing around and not doing anything. Someone fell on top of me and I wondered what the fuck the vigiles were doing, and then the Praetorians arrived, followed by the vigiles medici.” Arruns shrugged. The Praetorians had been brisk and efficient, but not cruel. He’d been sent straight to the hospital once the vigiles had seen his injuries, and he had not been questioned until he’d been treated. What more could a slave expect?

Mus was suitably impressed by Valentine’s purchase of Arruns. “You know who Valentine is, don’t you? The Emperor’s concubinus! There are rumours about them - who fucks who. You could do very well there, for a cheap scortum.” Mus sniggered.

“It wasn’t like that,” Arruns muttered, although it maybe it could be with some luck, but that was none of Mus’s business. A little deflection was in order. “How did you get here?”

It was pretty much as Arruns suspected: Sosius hadn’t even noticed that his slave had not returned until he got a call to come and pick Arruns up. That left Mus at home by himself so he took a shower (a short one so the water and electricity use would not be noticed) and watched morning television while reclining on Sosius’s favourite lectus. 

“I was watching spongiacurtus quadratumbrāca when they knocked on the door. There was a vigilium and a militem urbanum and a lady who said she was from SIPAS and that I had to let them in. I wasn’t going to, but they had the custodem aedificii right there and he said do it or they’d break down the door. So I opened up and they marched in and the lady started asking questions. Woman had the voice of a chainsaw, I tell you.”

Arruns remembered Val speaking on the phone to someone from SIPAS. “Was that Tullia?”

It was, and Tullia asked a lot of questions, like where Mus slept (here and there in the apartment, especially in the utility room which blocked the emergency exit), what Mus ate (canned food and slave supplements, which was not proper food), and how often he went outside (not very often, which was “deprivation of nature”). She didn’t look happy until she asked what Mus did to serve his master.

“Sex with him, of course, but, boy, she looked happy when I told her I served clients. I’ve seen the money change hands myself, and she was on the phone immediately to check whether I was registered and the tax paid. But then she asked about SIPAS visits and I said ‘what SIPAS visits’ and I’m telling you it looked like she came on the spot. The bed and such were just misdemeanours, she said, but tax evasion and maybe bribing a SIPAS officer were serious offenses. The Sos came home then and got arrested on the spot, which was great. Then I got taken to the local vigiles station and spent hours answering questions, until Tullia brought me here.”

Mus looked proud, as if he had orchestrated the whole sequence of events himself.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Arruns said quietly. Leaving Mus behind, with Master Sosius angry and ready to take his temper out on the young slave, had really been the only troubling matter of today. He pushed aside the rest of his meal, still unable to finish everything he had been given.

Mus smirked. “We’ve fallen on our feet here, Syr – I mean, Arruns. Have you finished eating? I’ll take you back to the bathroom to clean your teeth.”

Once Arruns was finished in the bathroom the fatigue swept over him again. Mus tucked him in.

“You’d better get to sleep,” he said. “Good luck with the trial tomorrow. I’ll get to follow it on the television – or even on my own phone! Imagine that, Arruns, our own phones!”

Mus switched the light as he left the room. Arruns looked up into the dark. Everything was working out so well! Mus was being looked after, and it seemed that Master Sosius would be held to account for his offences against the Empire. Sure, not everything was as he expected, but when did he start getting so precious about having everything his own way?

For what seemed like a long time Arruns lay still, opening and closing his eyes to see if there was any difference (there was a little light seeping under the door but it didn’t illuminate anything). He really ought to sleep. Tomorrow would be – whatever it would be.

He stared into the dark until Somnus finally brushed his eyes closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations
> 
> _imperatoria lŭpānăr_ imperial brothel  
_tabula_ tablet  
_medicus_ (voc. _medice_) medical doctor  
_subligaculum_ loin cloth, underpants  
_bracae_ trousers  
_soccus_ a laced, soft half-shoe  
_cena_ dinner, main meal of the day  
_puls_ risotto or pottage, a traditional Roman dish  
SIPAS – _Societās Imperātōrium Prohibēre Atrōcitae Servīs_ (which translates in English as the Imperial Society (or Alliance) to Prevent/Prohibit/Hinder Cruelty/Brutality to Slaves; a major, Imperial-sanctioned charity whose concern is slave welfare.  
_lararium_ The lararium was a shrine to the guardian spirits of the Roman household. Family members performed daily rituals at this shrine to guarantee the protection of these domestic spirits  
_Morpheus_ ('Fashioner', derived from the Ancient Greek: μορφή meaning 'form, shape'), a god associated with sleep and dreams. In Ovid's Metamorphoses he is the son of Somnus (Sleep), who appears in dreams in human form.  
_vigiles (sg. vigilium), vigiles urbani_ police  
_vigiles medici_ paramedic, ambulance  
_cohortes urbanae_ urban cohorts, whose primary role is to police Rome alongside the vigiles urbani. The urban cohorts thus act as a heavy duty police force, capable of riot control duties.  
_militum urbanum_ a soldier in the urban cohorts  
_concubīnus_ \- enslaved male concubine, male bed-slave  
_scortum_ a perjoritive term for a prostitute used for both sexes  
_lectus_ couch  
_spongiacurtus quadratumbrāca_ a children’s cartoon on TV  
_custodem aedificii_ caretaker of a building  
_Somnus_ god of sleep
> 
> For more information on prostitution, brothels and everything else in the 2770auc universe, check out my Dreamwidth journal [News from Nowhere](https://imperial-dragon.dreamwidth.org) and/or the [2770 ab urbe condita](https://2770auc.dreamwidth.org) community.


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